Confessions of a Secured Heart
by McChanged
Summary: She’s sadistic so she hates him for how he died and not that he did.
1. Chapter 1

I've been on a roll updating three stories and pushing out this new one. (Yep that was a shameless plug to get you to go and check out the other three so do it.) This isn't finished but I just couldn't find a good place to end it so that's why it just sort of _does._ Review so I know I'm not completely terrible at this ship please.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

* * *

She's sadistic so she hates him for _how_ he died and not that he _did_.

It's a heart attack in front of the entire student body at a championship game. (And _he_ called _her_ dramatic.)

She doesn't get to play grieving widow because _they_ were a secret, and she's just the dirty mistress. Gabriella plays it well, though, and she's tired of being the understudy.

She doesn't go to the funeral because people won't notice her absence, not because she just _can't_ go_. _(At least that's what she tells herself.)

Instead she spends four hours in the bathtub judging how well she can hold her breath and pressing the silver cross he gave her into her palm so hard it leaves a mark.

(She doesn't kill herself, because they were already _such_ a cliché.)

* * *

She leaves this town two weeks after graduation, and then the stick produces two lines and, really, this is getting ridiculous.

Tyler Bolton Evans is never born. A faulty test giving hope for everything she never knew she always wanted, and sweeping it away with a doctor's visit and a whispered _it's stress._

(Her heart hurts.)


	2. Chapter 2

_Fast updates. Exciting eh? But I got to say I don't think I'll update this until I get at least ten reviews so I know that someone's actually reading this and I'm not just wasting my time. _

_Disclaimer: Still don't own._

* * *

She's seventeen when he presses her back against the wall in a Chemistry lab and tells her that he may love her.

Gabriella's down the hall and there are basketball practices and dance lessons and parties to attend but all she can do is kiss the side of his mouth and tell him that she _does_.

(It's the first time she actually _means_ it, because after all she takes after her father when it comes to lying.)

It starts innocently enough. He gets bored with his princess and she's in the right place at the wrong time. (That always seems to be her problem.)

Her days are spent practicing for her time in the spotlight, so are his. He and Gabriella have a fairytale to follow after all. But nights are spent with each other.

Then things fall apart, or fall together depending on where you are in the story.

* * *

She may be the girl on the side but that doesn't mean she can't have one of her own.

His name's Brian and he's a college freshman. It's nothing more than sex and it's like a breath of fresh air to not have to hide it. She's tired of hiding everything.

Watching Troy's face when he discovers them in a dark movie theatre with Gabriella is only _too_ satisfying.

(She raises her eyebrows, because, really, he doesn't have the right to look _that_ hurt with his future on his arm.)

He corners her the next morning during a passing period, and she breaks his heart with an _it didn't even mean anything, you were just a great fuck _and a few well placed smirks. It was going to happen eventually, and she doesn't think she can take anymore heartbreak.

It's easy to walk away. Her parents taught her how.

(She doesn't look back.)

* * *

And then his dad dies, and he's just _gone._ Just drops off the face of the earth, _disappears_.

She drives to his house, because everybody else has been talking about how his mom doesn't stop crying and how Troy won't even open the door, but none of them seem to be making the effort to do something about it. (So, she does it herself.)

His mom's home, but is curled up in her room somewhere. Troy's at the kitchen sink washing dishes, his back to her when she walks in. He doesn't jump when she speaks, doesn't even move, but she pushes on anyway.

"You don't always have to be the strong one, Troy. People, they want to help you. Let them."

She sees the glass coming, but she doesn't even flinch when it shatters on the wall behind her.

"Fuck you, Sharpay. You don't get to come in to _my_ house and tell _me_ what _I'm_ doing wrong. My mom hasn't moved since she got the call, she barely even eats. So, yea, I'm handling things because no one else will." He's yelling and she thinks, maybe, he thinks it will scare her off. Make her leave him alone.

(It won't. She burns her own bridges. People can't do it for her.)

"Okay."

"Were not even friends, remember, I'm just a good _fuck." _This time she does flinch.

"I didn't mean that. I'm sorry." And she steps toward him.

There's a pause and then: "He was a bastard."

"Okay." Another step.

"I hated him." One more, and she's standing so close she can practically touch him.

"Liar."

"Yea." He collapses and she halfway catches him, but her knees still hit the floor so hard it steals her breath.

He's sobbing and all she can do is rock him and whisper _I know_ into his ear.

(She remembers watching them practice in the gym, his dad pushing him with words like _disappointment_ escaping his lips at a rapid pace, and thinks that life isn't supposed to hurt this much.)


End file.
